Teleology and Utilitarian Woes
by PrinceMittens
Summary: Chloe makes the right choice
"This is the only way." Her friend produced a photograph from a jacket pocket and shoved it toward her.

A fleeting thought came into her mind. So her friend had kept that picture that she'd given her on her person at all times… that was kind of flattering. The thought passed, and Max was brought back to the present.

"No…" Max whispered. Part of her had always known that it might have come to this, and to have it actually happen, to have it shoved against her and forced down her throat was the epitome of inequity. She began to feel the sting of tears as her friend continued speaking.

"I'll always love you." Chloe said with a heartbreaking smile, her blue hair somehow not obscuring her face as it blew about in the horrendous wind. "Don't you forget about me, Max."

"Never." Max replied without thinking and then caught herself. "You can't make me do this. You are my number one priority, Chloe. D-don't make me choose." And then she pulled her friend into a hug and began to cry graceless, heaving sobs.

"Max…" Chloe started to say before her own voice broke. "There are so many men, women and children down there in that storm. They don't deserve to die, not for someone like me. I'm an ungrateful, selfish nobody who only causes trouble to everyone, including you."

"That's not true." Max's voice muffled against her friend's shoulder.

"This week you spent with me," Chloe continued, ignoring her response, "It's the best farewell gift I could've ever had. Please. My mom's been through so much, she doesn't deserve to be killed like this inside a shitty diner and a freak storm. Even my step… father deserves more than this."

"No…" Max whimpered desperately, clutching her fingers even more tightly into the fabric of her friend's leathery jacket. "You can't. I tried so hard to keep you alive. I did everything I could, I just want you to stay with me. You can't. It's not fair. It's just not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Max. I don't think I was meant to live. Look at how many times I've almost or actually died this week. You know how many times that's happened better than I do. Maybe we're just delaying my fate. If fate wants me dead, then I might as well die for the sake of everyone down there. As long as you remember me-" Chloe huffed to a stop, losing breath as Max squeezed her breathless. "Max. You're hurting me."

Max loosened her arms but remained pressed into her friend's shoulders. "Not as much as you're hurting me." She whispered. "I love you. I love you so much, Chloe."

Max felt her friend's arms circle around her own back, and she let herself be held as she continued to cry. Crybaby Max. That was what she was. A significant part of her was telling her to just let everyone die and save Chloe. It was horrible. How could she do that? How could she be so selfish? It would be like personally going down into Arcadia Bay and single-handedly murdering every one of its residents. That was what she was wanting to do. How could she be so cruel? But how could she lose Chloe? After everything they've been through together, after everything she's done to keep her errant friend alive, how could she be expected to just sacrifice the one person she cared about the most?

Suddenly, the warm presence she'd been holding became a void of cold wind, and Max came to her senses. "Chloe, what are you doing?"

"I love you too, Max. But you already know that." Her friend said with a broken voice as she backed away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to force this choice on you. Even if I don't show it very well, I really, really do care about you."

"What do you mean?" Max's voice faltered, and she felt another dark premonition as Chloe backed further toward the cliff face. The look that her friend was giving her made her feel rolling pangs in her heart. "Chloe?"

"I won't force you to make the choice, because… because I've made it for you. Goodbye Max."

"No! Chloe! Wait!" Max ran forward, pushing her frozen limbs to move, move, _move_. And then her friend vanished from view. Chloe, in one unassuming movement, had fallen off the side of the cliff.

"Chloe." Max collapse, mumbling her friends name thoughtlessly. "Oh Chloe...".

Max sniffed, swallowed her tears, and held up the photograph. Below, the massive tornado had already begun tearing up the town. Entire buildings were being visibly swallowed into the swirl of wind, lightning and thunder. No one aboveground could have survived that. Max's vision blurred, causing her to lose focus on the photograph. Max wiped a forearm over her eyes. The tornado was almost assuredly just a prelude. Who knows what would happen if she'd continued denying fate and using her powers to keep Chloe alive. The end of the world?

Max made another swipe at her eyes and cleared her tears. This was no time for hesitation. This was Chloe's choice. The butterfly within the photograph flared into focus and, amidst a blur of voices, color and sound, the world rotated backwards.

* * *

*k-chik*

The camera clicked and a photo slid out of its chute. Max reached forward by habit and plucked the picture forward, just as she had the first time.

And then, she dropped the photo, letting it slide to the ground. The butterfly, the one which had just had its picture taken, fluttered out from behind the bathroom stall and landed on the sink. Max merely pressed her back into the wall, slid onto the tiles, and buried her face in her hands.

Moments later, the door opened, and a boy began to yammer. "It's ok, Nathan. Stay cool. You own this place! If I wanted, I could blow it up. You're the boss."

She no longer had her rewind powers. She could feel it. Whatever had given her those powers had left her. Anything that happened now would be how history would be, how it should've been in the first place. If Maxine Caulfield hadn't developed the ability to rewind time, the fate of Chloe Price on this day would've been certain death.

The sound of the door to the girl's bathroom swung open once more.

Nathan's voice became flat, threatening. "What do you want?

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say." There was the sound of various stall doors being pushed open, and Max drew up her knees, resting her eyes into her forearm. "Now. Let's talk bid-ness."

 _Chloe…_

"I've got nothing for you!"

The voices fazed away as Max's entire focus disappeared. She couldn't bear this. She didn't want to hear it anymore. She just wanted it to be over. _Chloe…_ Max felt something sting at her eyes. _Crybaby Max!_ Her internal voice jested. It was Chloe's voice.

"Where'd you get that?!" Chloe demanded, her voice now involuntarily tinged with fear.

"Don't you _ever_ tell me what to do!" Nathan screamed. "I'm so _sick_ of people trying to _control me!_ "

"Get that gun away from me, psycho!"

A gunshot clipped the air, and Max flinched. Tears began falling from her eyes as Nathan voice became rabid. "Shit. _Shit._ Hey wake up! I didn't mean to- hey! _Shit. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!"_

Max's breath hitched as she sobbed. The sound of the door swinging open and of David Madsen's voice yelling "Drop your weapon!" were the last things she heard before she was forcefully ejected out of the past into present day.

* * *

It was Friday, and Max was staring off the cliffside into the sunset. It was beautiful. A twinge of sadness settled inside her belly as she thought on the many hours she'd spent playing little games with her childhood friend, Chloe, on this very cliff-side half a lifetime ago. The thought was accompanied by a feeling of familiar guilt. She'd left Chloe for five entire years to deal with her father's death. Chloe had been forced to mourn and cope alone while Max made new friends and enjoyed herself in Seattle.

And now Chloe was gone, killed by that freak psychopath, Nathan Prescott. She always knew something was wrong with him and the crazy people from the Vortex Club. They thought they were above the law. They weren't, and Nathan was going to get exactly what he deserved.

Max watched the orange light of the setting Sun dance on the waves of the sea. She was glad Joyce had found a new partner. They would mourn, but Joyce, at least, wouldn't be alone in grief over her daughter's death. That would be too sad.

She tried to imagine what Chloe was like. Five years had changed her friend radically, and, based on what Joyce had told her, she realized that she couldn't. Chloe had become a different person, and had coped with her father's death in very unexpected ways. Max could only remember Chloe as a happy child, the one with whom she'd played with since they were tots. The punk-style and blue hair-dye were the last things she'd ever expect from her friend.

Max turned and began walking down the forest trail away from the lighthouse.

 _Wherever you are now Chloe, I hope you find a better friend than me_.


End file.
